Dates
by Moon's Smile
Summary: Misaki hates dates with perverted outer space aliens. – AU; Sequel to Coffee –


**I am...exhausted. **

**It's finally here. The long-awaited sequel to "Coffee". I know I promised some people that this would be up much sooner...Yeah, sorry. There's so much drama in my life...*sigh* I thought I let you all wait long enough, so I forced myself to sit down and finish this. Now, to new readers, I'm not sure if it's necessary to read "Coffee" before reading this. It'd be good if you did, though, and you can drop a review while you're at it too. xD**

**I do not own Kaichou Wa Maid-Sama, and I never, _ever_ will. And beware! Usui-pervertedness is at top level! :D And I apologize in advance for any mistakes...**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Dates

It was official. It should have been engraved in gold, or something, for all she knew.

Ayuzawa Misaki was _not_ meant for dating.

All people were different. Some people hated things or objects; others were hopeless at a certain skill, or sport, or whatever. It was just the way they had been made. Likewise, Ayuzawa Misaki hated men. She was talented at many, _many_ things, but dating was not on the list.

She wasn't the best chef either, but that was another story for another day.

Sometimes, Misaki wondered why that blonde idiot was sent to her, _her_ out of all the _fuckin'_ women in the world. He was an _alien_! At least the angels could have sent a human to her!

Exasperatedly, the raven maiden sighed.

Sadly, Misaki wasn't into love. In fact, she didn't even believe in it. Love brought trouble. That was how she liked to think. Love was trouble. She didn't need it. Not to mention most men were assholes. It was the exact reason she hated them. Loathed them. Despised them.

You know how some people hate animals? Misaki hated men.

There was still one teensy _tiny_ thing Misaki didn't understand in the slightest.

If she hated men…

Why the _hell_ was she standing in her room, with her lovely best friends Sakura and Shizuko, dressing up for a _date_ with Usui Takumi?

He was an _alien_, for fuck's sakes! A stalking alien! She must have been going crazy.

"Ne, Shizuko, remind me to go to a psychiatrist next week…"

Shizuko was not amused.

The bespectacled woman shot Misaki the mother of all glares. "Misaki-san, how many times do I have to tell you? This is _good_ for you."

Enthusiastically, Sakura nodded, a little too happily for Misaki's comfort. "Yeah! Usui-san is freakin' hot! You're so lucky! Plus, psychiatrists are expensive…" Pink eyes sparkled vibrantly. It was pretty obvious she was excited for her best friend.

Misaki wouldn't call this situation _lucky_, per se. More like coincidental.

"…I think you two have forgotten the fact that he _stared_ at me, at a _café_, for _more_ than a _week_."

Sakura seemed to jolt at the deadpan expression plastered on Misaki's face. The pinkette's hand paused midway from brushing light eye shadow on the raven head's eyelid. Eeriness and stubbornness seemed to float and contaminate the already stuffy atmosphere.

With the vibrancy in her eyes dialing down a few notches, Sakura gulped.

"…I thought it was flattering."

Shizuko pushed up her glasses with her forefinger.

"…I surmised it more as charming."

Misaki bolted upright from her computer chair. Sakura stepped back, and almost fell on the exasperated woman's bedspread.

"It was more like insanely _creepy_!" Misaki screamed. Her dainty little fists clenched, along with her jaw. Shizuko was afraid her teeth might crack.

"Misaki-san, I suggest going to a dentist soon…"

"Dentists are expensive too…" Sakura piped, urging Misaki to sit back down on the chair, and to let her finish the makeup.

Obstinately, Misaki sat down on the chair, and crossed her arms and legs. "Honestly…What the hell have I gotten myself into? I'm going on a date, with someone I don't even know! We're complete strangers!" Misaki sighed, and waved Sakura's lip gloss away.

"Sakura-san, you shouldn't put too much on," Shizuko instructed. "Misaki-san, Usui-san ordered this date only so you can get to know each other."

"Still…" Uncertainty was laced within her tone. "I don't know. I don't have the time or money for a relationship! I don't even believe in love!"

Shizuko stopped brushing Misaki's raven locks, and instead wacked her head with the comb. "Nonsense!"

Sakura, standing like a mother scolding a child, looked heatedly down at the woman sitting on the chair. "Misaki! I've told you so many times to give up that attitude! Love is real, and you need it!"

Misaki pouted. "But I don't even like men!"

The best friends froze. A cold wind brushed by.

Shizuko's constricted voice filled the silence.

"…Are you finally coming out of the closet, Misaki-san…?"

Misaki's little patience was seriously thinning out quickly.

"NO! You idiots!" she shouted. "I'm just saying…Relationships are trouble. I don't want or need the useless extra stress." She spoke with an air of defeat about her, and that was so uncharacteristic.

"Misaki," Sakura's tone was soothing and comforting, "trust us. You _need_ this, and it's good for you. You have to think about yourself once in a while, too. Now, promise us you'll have fun on this date."

Deciding the only thing she could do now was surrender, Misaki nodded.

"Alright."

* * *

It was 7:55 P.M., on Friday night, and Misaki was already walking into the entrance of Central Park.

It was quite chilly outside. The frosty air bit Misaki's cheeks and legs, and she could see her breath fan in the breeze. The moon was shining its glow on the world, brightening it up, and the night sky swirled in black.

The park was pretty busy; more people than Misaki expected were there. The heels of her black boots clicked on the sidewalk as she walked.

Uncertainty clouded the atmosphere around her. She felt the nervousness swirl in the pit of her stomach, and she knew red tinged her cheeks, and it wasn't from the cold. Still, her amber eyes burned brightly in the dim light. Even though she still didn't know what she was doing, she was ready.

'_Why am I here again…?'_

The wind flapped her cheeks, and her skirt fluttered about her knees. Maybe it would have been a good idea to wear stockings in this weather. She was fine in her grey winter coat, but neglected to think about her thighs and knees.

She hated Sakura and Shizuko for picking out a dress like this. It was a luxurious, rich crème color, and it accentuated her slightly curvaceous physique a little _too_ much, and also highlighted the slightly pale tone of her skin. Sakura had said it complimented her hair, as well, which was pulled up by bobby pins into a messy bun, courtesy of Shizuko. It was sort of sloppy, sloppier in the wind, and bits and pieces of her dark tresses flailed about and chewed the edges of her face. Misaki had felt uneasy with it, but Shizuko had said it was "charming".

She started to hate that word.

"You're here."

Misaki had to remember not to be so engrossed in her thoughts while she walked. She hadn't even realized she was deep in the park already, by the sparkling fountain. Lights were shining, water dripping, children screaming happily, people chattering blissfully.

There, standing by the fountain, was the blonde alien stalker himself, Usui Takumi.

The pinkish hue on her face got darker by seeing him.

He was so nonchalant it bothered her. He looked as if he _didn't_ stare at her in the café for so many days. He looked as if he _didn't_ send her tubs of coffee anonymously. He looked as if he _didn't_ all but force her into going out with him.

Her hate for him was increasing second by second.

'_What the hell am I doing here?' _

Under a thin grey jacket, he was wearing a black button down, with a white tie. Both of which looked like silk. And he was wearing grey, faded jeans.

Misaki was impressed, irritated, and turned on, all at the same time. She realized that wasn't really a pleasant mixture of emotions.

She mentally smacked herself. He knew how to dress. She gave him that.

His blonde locks ruffled and swayed in the wind flowingly. She slowly walked closer to him, but stood a good distance away.

"Aren't you cold?" She gestured to his jacket.

For a brief second, he glanced downwards, but then just shrugged. "Nah, I'm fine. I'm an alien, remember?"

There it was. His lips twirled slightly upwards into that beautiful, beautiful, yet sly and devious smirk she grew to love and hate at the same time.

Fiddling with her thumbs, she hastily looked away from him, and the heat in her cheeks increased. She wasn't cold anymore. She'd noticed his emeralds were sparkling, shimmering, dancing and spinning in amusement. It bothered her.

"You look incredible."

Her head jerked upwards at him, and he had walked closer to her. His face was hovering right over hers. Mentally, she cursed his damn height.

He took her hand gingerly, and brushed his soft, soft lips on the back of it tenderly, gentlemanly, just how he had done in the café a few days prior.

Her blush and emotions and hormones went in overdrive, but she didn't show it. Her nails dug into the skin of her other hand.

"T-thank you…"

She didn't know what it was with this guy. He was just so fuckin' weird.

It was wonderful, yet repulsing all the while. And strangely, she liked it. She was fond of it.

His very presence ignited these awfully unfamiliar and peculiar feelings and emotions within her. They were foreign. He was a gentleman, nothing the like the men she was used to, and the men she loathed.

She hissed. She was stupid. How can a guy she just met (a blonde alien, on top of that) initiate such emotions in her? It didn't make sense.

She came up with an answer: Life just made no fuckin' sense.

Awkwardly, she slipped her hand out from his fingers. She didn't know if it was her imagination, but she felt an electric spark.

"Where are we going?" she asked curiously and out of the blue.

He looked around, and casually stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Don't know."

She shot him an amber gaze that screamed _'Are you kidding me?'_

"You asked me out and you don't even know where we're going…?"

He scratched the back of his neck with his fingers. "I thought I'd let you choose. It's the least I could do, since I creeped you out so much." His sentence ended with a deep, smooth, low, throaty chuckle. Misaki's face started sweating, and it was painted in all red by now. His chuckle was sexy.

'_Argh! What the hell?!'_

Fidgeting and squirming and wiggling, she evaded eye contact, and her lips were quivering. She wanted to beat him up for getting this kind of reaction out of her. He was lucky her best friends would be upset if she killed him.

"Did you like the coffee?"

The question came randomly, out of the blue, and Misaki almost didn't know how to answer it.

"Erm, yeah, I guess…"

"You better have. It was expensive."

"Who told you to buy such expensive coffee for me?!" She was exasperated all over again. Her tone came out a bit harsher than she intended it to be.

"No one. Something inside of me told me to give you the absolute best. You don't seem like you deserve less than that." The coyness of his smile diluted, and it was much softer, subtler, and sweeter. It was lovely.

Misaki's heart swelled. He really knew how to sweet talk someone. It could have all been for show; it was dangerous to be too trusting. Still, she couldn't help but feel _appreciated_ (or smug, but appreciated seemed like a nicer word) at the otherwise comforting compliment.

Actually, Misaki had no idea how to respond.

"Um, I'm glad…?" It came out more as a question than a response.

Granted, that was _not_ the correct reply.

An air of awkwardness approached, and Misaki's suddenly felt her legs wiggling. Awkwardness was horrible. She never liked it. In fact, she hated it, with a burning passion, and she never knew how to deal with it. She felt as if she could take a knife and slice the thick, _thick_ air about them both. It was too uneasy. Well, he seemed completely casual. She was the uneasy one.

Curse blonde perverted aliens. Usui Takumi was the type of man that strolled with an aura that screamed _I'm-Better-And-Hotter-Than-You_, or _I-Never-Have-Bed-Hair-In-The-Morning-Haha._ And then he'd laugh in your face.

He was the type of guy who woke up beautiful. He was beautiful all the time, even when asleep. And he made no efforts to look handsome. He was just like that.

"Fuck you."

Misaki hadn't realized she cursed aloud.

"I'd be happy to."

Jolting violently, immediately she grabbed a rather _pointy_ stick (_God_ knew where she pulled that out from) and held it a breadth of a hair away from the tan skin of his neck. With raven eyebrows knitted and teeth clenched, she hissed, a hiss that could have put snakes to shame. Poor snakes…

"Bitch, I'll cut you."

She'd had tried, once (albeit, _failed_) to control the vulgarity of her speech.

He held his hands up in mock surrender. And his face was twisted in an expression that screamed "This is fuckin' awesome." To top it all off, an overly smug and slick smirk was carved in his lips.

"But you offered."

She wasn't amused. The stick's ragged edges bit into her skin.

"Pervert."

"I admit, I'm a pervert. Don't kill me."

She wished she knew what the hell he was thinking.

In mock defeat, she threw the stick away. Huffing, she crossed her arms. "Where are we going? We won't accomplish anything by just standing here."

He looked to be in thought.

"You're right. Where do you want to go?" Tapping her foot, she bit her lip.

"I don't really know…I guess I'd like something to eat…"

"Restaurant? Perfect." He grabbed her arm, and began leading her out of the park, and on the street. She followed suit, like an unwilling little duckling.

That sexy chuckle of his filled the quiet air, and she flinched when it hit her eardrums. "You're cute when you pout."

She completely ignored him.

They reached the restaurant quicker than expected. Whilst entering, she growled lowly, and unwomanly.

It was _expensive_.

She neglected to catch the name of the restaurant. It was something French, something she was too lazy to try to read. Stuffiness was etched into the oxygen; Misaki felt she was drowning in the desperateness, over-politeness, fancy fuckin' clothing, and snobbiness. She _hated _rich people.

The blonde alien just _had_ to bring her to this kind of restaurant.

"Erm, don't you think this is a little expensive…?"

She hadn't yet realized she was still clinging to his elbow.

He shrugged, like he always did. "Doesn't matter."

Her mouth curved into an inhuman shape. "Eh? It _does_ matter!"

A waiter approached them, and led them to one of the tables in the back. The carpet was a rich, suggestive crimson, and it felt soft under her heels.

Usui Takumi walked around the edge of the table (the tablecloth was so _soft_, so _white_, and so _crisp_) and held out a chair for her to sit. Quite awkwardly and blushingly, she sat slowly on the chair, as if it was offending her in some way (actually, it was, since the cushion was luxuriously red, and velvety; the wood was a thick dark brown, and it looked like mahogany). Damn rich people…

He sat in the seat opposite hers. Chandeliers hung above her head and all over the wallpapered walls (the pattern on the wallpaper was swirly and elegant and she had to admit, it was _nice_), and the bright yellow light shimmered in the dimly-lit place.

There was nothing but a pregnant silence between the two for a few long moments, and within those moments, a waitress sauntered by, strutting her hips and sticking out her bottom while she was at it, and took both Misaki's and Takumi's coats.

Her grey coat was gone, along with his, and the upper body portion of her ivory dress was in full view, and exposed for the world to marvel at.

Misaki began rocking back and forth in her seat. He didn't say a word. Suddenly, her tiny reflection in the silverware placed in front of her was _so_ interesting, far more interesting than the blonde pervert sitting directly across from her.

She took a few minutes to make silly faces to her own reflection, and then realized how childish she was being. Sighing in something keen to exhaustion, she slammed her soup spoon back on the lush table cloth.

She muttered incoherently under her breath, "Is this how we're supposed to 'get to know each other'…?" She sighed soon after.

Then, the raven maiden felt stares pierce into her very being. Deathly, strong, concentrated stares. More like glares. At first, she thought she was being stared at by the many old, rich pedophiles sitting at the many tables surrounding her, and then she thought she wouldn't mind busting a few heads tonight, since most of the geezers' wives were present as well.

But then, she realized the eager staring was not coming from around her, but in _front_ of her. Heated amber orbs landed on the man sitting across from her, her _date_. A shivering wind brushed by, and briefly Misaki wondered _how_ the hell that could happen, since they were inside and all…

She shook that thought away. Slicing jade green emeralds were boring right into her bones, shredding past her skin and going straight into her soul. Misaki thought she would choke from the depth of his gaze, from the heaviness of it. He was as motionless as a statue, and his hands were folded on the table in front of him, legs probably crossed underneath, and a stern, stoic expression lingered in his cheeks and mouth.

The funny part was, he wasn't staring at her eyes, her face, or even her head. No, he was staring at her _chest_. Her _breasts_.

Disgust, along with flaring anger, welled up within the ebony-haired woman's stomach.

"Are you _staring_ at my _chest_…?" She asked the question in a deathly, _deathly_ slow tone, and she enunciated every word precisely and carefully.

She shot him the iciest of all glowers, one that could have sent football players running for their lives.

One blonde eyebrow quirked upwards, and hid under the curtain of thick, golden bangs.

"It's not fair. You're trying to seduce me, aren't you?"

She almost choked on her own spit.

'_Charming, huh…?'_

Well, the neck of her dress _was_ pretty low (it was a plain V-neck), and it did show a teensy bit of cleavage. Not that she had much of it, anyways, but the dress seemed to pronounce whatever she had.

A blush flared on her cheeks, and her amber pools swam in fire. They weren't lemony anymore. They were _red_. Bright _red_.

In a blink of an eye, she grabbed the knife that had been lying next to the salad fork, leaned over the table, and held the utensil _dangerously_ close to his neck, right where she had placed the stick earlier in the park.

"Again, bitch, I _will_ cut you."

Again, his hands shot up in mock surrender. He was _so_ amused. His emeralds darted downwards for a split moment, and then slid back to look her straight in the eye. If possible, his smirk grew wider, coyer, slyer, and more _suggestive_.

She tilted her head to the side in slight curiosity.

"You know, I have a really good view of your breasts right now."

"Eh?!"

She was leaning on the table in front of him. No wonder…

Her face and neck flared in tomato red. Sweat beads started dotting her skin.

Fuck the knife. She dropped it, and her hand went straight for his tie. She wove it within her fingers, and she held her face dangerously close to his. They were a centimeter away.

She was scowling. He was smirking.

She was about to punch him (hard, enough that he'd knock out cold on the floor), when a small, timid, shy voice broke her concentration.

"Um…e-excuse me? W-what would you t-two l-like to d-drink?"

The poor waitress was probably terrified.

In a dignified manner, Misaki let go of the ivory tie and settled back down in her chair, all the while willing her dress's neck a little upwards. The remnants of her previous blush were still colored on her cheeks.

She started speaking in a stoic, sophisticated manner. "I'll just have some wa-"

The alien cut her off.

"We'll both have coffee. Black. Extra sugar."

Misaki slammed her head on the table, black pieces of hair pooling about her head.

"Miss? Are you alright?!"

"…I'm perfectly fine…"

The waitress skittered away, and when Misaki lifted her head, she was greeted with an overly-enthusiastic, overly-out-of-character smile. Jade eyes sparkled in wonder and glee.

"I know Misa-chan loves coffee."

Misaki craned her neck, and pleaded to the skies.

"God, _please, help me_."

_-An Hour Later-_

"So, do you want to come back to my apartment?" His voice dripped with suggestiveness and perverseness. He winked wittingly and seductively at her.

Misaki was turned on.

"Fuckin' perverted alien!"

Of course, she'd never admit it.

"Calm your fuckin' hormones!"

Yup, it was official.

Ayuzawa Misaki was _not_ cut out for dating.

"I hate dates…"

_-Five Minutes Later-_

"So…you wanna do this next weekend too?"

She kicked him (powerfully), square in the gut.

"I hate aliens…"

* * *

**I'm not sure if fancy top-notch restaurants serve coffee like that...  
**

**I hope I didn't disappoint anyone with this. It's shorter than "Coffee", but I tried putting more humor. And I hope no one was OOC...I tried my best. I'm not sure if this is rushed or not. I think it should've been longer, but I was kinda blanking out on ideas...**

**Anyways, was it good? Bad? Awesome? Terrible? Tell me your thoughts in a review! **

**P.S.: I was _so_ happy with the responses for "Coffee". Thank you! You guys are awesome! :D**


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